"Andrews, V C - The Casteels 02 - Dark Angel" - читать интересную книгу автора (Andrews V.C)

Someday I'd make my granny proud, though she was dead. Someday when I
had my string of degrees I'd go again to the Willies, to kneel at the
foot of her grave, and I'd say all the words that would make Granny
happier than she'd ever been in life. I didn't doubt in the least that
Granny up in heaven would smile down on me, and. she'd know at last one
Casteel had made it through high school, then college What an ignorant
innocent I was to arrive with so much hope.

It had all happened so fast: the plane landing, my frenzied scramble to
find my way through the crowded airport to the luggage carousel, all the
worldly things I'd thought would be so easy, but they weren't so easy. I
was scared even after I found my two blue suitcases that seemed
amazingly heavy. I looked around and floundered, filled with
trepidation. What my grandparents didn't come? What if they had Usecon d
thoughts about welcoming an unknown grand- into their secure, wealthy
world? They had done without me this long, why not forever? And so I
stood and waited, and as the minutes passed I became convinced they'd
never show up.

Even when a strikingly handsome couple advanced toward me, wearing the
richest clothes I'd ever seen, still I was nailed to the floor, unable
to believe that maybe, after all, God was at last going to grant me
something beside's hardship.

The man was the first to smile, to look me over really carefully. A
light sprang into his light blue eyes, bright, like a golden candle seen
through a window on Christmas Eve. "Why, you must be Miss Heaven Leigh
Casteel," greeted the smiling blond man. "I would know you anywhere. You
are your mother all over again, but for your dark hair." My heart jumped
in response, then plunged. My curse, my dark hair. My father's genes
spoiling my future, again. "Oh, please, please, Tony," whispered the
beautiful woman at his side, ."don remind me of what I have lost " And
there she was, the grandmother of my dreams. Ten times more beautiful
than I had ever pictured. I had presumed the mother of my mother would
be a sweet, gray-haired old lady. I'd never imagined any grandmother
could look like this elegant beauty in a gray fur coat, high gray boots,
and long gray gloves. Her hair was a sleek cap of pale shining gold,
pulled back from her face to show a sculptured profile and unlined face.
I didn't doubt who. she was, despite her amazing youth, for she was too
much like the image Isaw every day in the mirror. "Come. Come," she
said to me, motioning for her husband to sweep up my bags and hurry. "I
hate public places. We can get to know each other in private." My
grandfather sprang into action, picking up my two bags, as she tugged on
my arms, and soon I was hustled into a waiting limousine with a liveried
chauffeur. "Home," said my grandfather to the chauffeur without even
looking his way.

As I sat between the two of them, finally my grandmother smiled. Gently
she drew me into her arms, and kissed me, and murmured words I couldn't
quite understand. "I'm sorry we have to be so abrupt about this, but we